The Chronicles of Shi Xiao

The Black Armor Is Not Yet Cold, the Flute Has Not Fallen Silent The northern wind was forged in ice. The sword of Shi Yi, the black-armored general, had cut down countless armies, yet could not sever the thread of Jiangnan flute music in his heart. Everyone called him cold-blooded and merciless, an undefeated god of war. But no one knew that when he polished his sword beneath the moon, he always gazed toward Jiangnan. There were peach blossoms there, a bamboo flute, and a girl in red waiting for him to come home. A Xiao's bamboo flute had played through the peach-blossom rains of Jiangnan in the third lunar month, and through a thousand miles of wind and snow in the north. Her gentle, graceful music flowed like spring water around stones, lingering and winding until it settled in the heart of the black-armored general. When the smoke of war in the north met the peach blossoms of Jiangnan, and the chill of black armor met the warmth of flute music, their story began with an encounter fated to happen. With the nation still in danger, he was the black-armored general guarding its borders. When the peach blossoms bloomed, he was Shi Yi, hers alone.